


Four Ways to Earn a Kiss

by Titans_R_Us



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Awkward Flirting, But only a tiny angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Injury Recovery, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, desperate situations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-27
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 07:24:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14765171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titans_R_Us/pseuds/Titans_R_Us
Summary: Since there are four people in this love square, there should be four first-time kisses for every possible pair.MariChat: AccidenticalLadrien: Blushing (written by the lovely Wintersnight)Ladynoir: DesperateAdrinette: Terrified





	Four Ways to Earn a Kiss

**MariChat: Accidentical**

“Come on Princess! Don’t you think your knight in shining armor deserves a _tiny_ reward?” Chat gently puts Marinette down on the balcony of her building. The teenager throws him a look as she makes her way to the skylight.

“A knight, where? _All I see is a mangy cat!”_ She teases, popping open the hatch.

“Princess!”

“Besides what on earth did you do to earn a reward?” Chat takes a moment to enjoy the sarcasm. It’s strange, but oddly refreshing to hear his classmate talk like this. To see Marinettte without an awkward stutter around him. True in real life she must really dislike him, dislike Adrien since she never opens up like this at school, but here with Chat? Her real personality shines through and Chat confirms that she’s his sassy princess.

“Well princess, allow me to Purr-suade you. One, I’ve saved the day _without_ my lady.” Chat begins checking off claws on his hands. Strolling along the top of the railing, balancing effortlessly until he jumps besides the open hatch.

“Just barely.” Marinette says dryly.

He continues as if he didn’t hear her, “Two, I valiantly saved the fair maiden from the horrible, horrible monster.”

Yes. And it had been beyond difficult for Marinette. She couldn’t help capture the Akuma at all when Chat was this extremely attentive to her. He made sure that she was always in his sights in the process of ‘rescuing’ her. Always carried her away from the danger repeatedly as the host of the Akuma had a grudge against her apparently. Every time she thought she finally had a moment to transform, when Chat told her to run and hide, he’d leap to her hiding place and spirit her away to a different location. To end the deranged chase of Cat and Monster, Mariette had to subtly direct Chat to destroy the akumatized object. True his cataclysm didn’t destroy the Akuma, but with very very frantic maneuvering, the butterfly was captured. Currently it remains in a jar that clicks as Chat puts it carefully down on the rooftop.

“Oh my hero, what a complete and utter trial that must have been for you.” Marinette struggles to keep her face straight. She rests her head on folded arms halfway dangling inside her room.  

“A trial? For you? Never.” Chat crouches down next to her, their faces a foot apart. “Oh! And on top of everything else I escorted said maiden home. Therefore with my heroic deeds, I say I have earned at least _something_.”

“And what said _‘something’_ are you implying my dear knight?” She smirks at him, shaking her head slightly at his audacity. Really, Chat would be completely lost without her.

Yet to Chat...he’s already lost. Lost in the picture his classmate, his friend, _his princess_ makes. The streetlights making her dark hair glisten in the night, her playful smile and laughing eyes. He can’t help but the way he needs to shrink the space between them. He plants his hands and slides his body behind him. Chat lays on belly like the lazy cat he’s often accused of being.

“Welllllllll.” He rests his chin in his hands. “Most damsels give their knight a kiss.”

Marinette snorts. “Pfffft, is that so? Not happening.” She sniggers at the whine he makes in response.

_“But my lady!”_

“Nope. Goodnight Chat.”

“It doesn’t have to be on the lips! Just a–” He fumbles his words, part of him wondering why he’s even pressing the issue, he’s in love with Ladybug for goodness sake! “–Just a peck on the cheek. Surely you can do that!”

“ _Maaaaaybe_ , but any kiss is pushing it, furball!”

He slides his face closer to hers and wheedles, “Please, _Paw-lease_ Princess? Just one peck? One peck for your most valiant and trustworthy knight?”

At least the line and his begging eyes gets him a bell-light laugh. The sound echoes between them and his gaze becomes even more fond.

“Please?” He whispers quietly.

She stares at him for a moment, chewing her lip in thought and then gives up with a sigh. “Fine. But just a peck.”

He beams and Marinette swears his expression could light up the night. She giggles helplessly as he wiggles excitedly towards her. Their noses almost pressing together.

“On the cheek, Chat!”

“Of course, of course.” He demurely turns his head, presenting his cheek for his reward.

She leans in, meaning to make it quick and light when–

_“MARINETTE IS THAT YOU???”_

In surprise Chat jerks, turning his head to the shout and instead of the kiss landing on his cheek…

It lands straight on his mouth.

Their eyes go wider than dinner plates. Marinette makes a shocked noise in the back of her throat, and Chat replies with a sound of alarm in his. Neither of them think of moving. Their muscles still frozen at how...soft the other’s lips are against theirs.

A heartbeat passes between them, two, then ten and finally Marinette rears back to scream, _“CHAT!”_

But Chat already is scuttling backwards, “I didn’t mean to do that Princess!”

_“You liar!”_

“No, it was an accident, a m-mistake! It was supposed to be only on the cheek I swear!”

Below Marinette, she hears her mother call louder, “Marinette, are you here? It’s been hours, where have you been? _We’ve been worried sick!”_

Starled, she hits her elbow hard on the edge of the skylight. _“OUCH!_ Argh just go, you mangy cat!” She hisses. Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment and pain.

“I’m s-sorry!” He waves hands about, fumbling for his baton. “Are you okay? That looked really claw-ful and–”

“Really? Really Chat, you make puns even now? How dare–just go, I’ll _strangle_ you later.”

“B-But!” He grabs the Akuma jar, and climbs the railing. Even crouches ready to spring but also ready to stay and apologize over and over and–

_“GO!”_

He leaps to the sound of her slamming the skylight window shut. Chat races against rooftops, his bangs flying as he flings himself further into the shadows away from princess.

But...he can’t stop grinning.

Not for all the ladybugs in Paris. _  
_

* * *

**Ladrien: Blushing**

Now that they’re out of immediate danger (and thank _goodness_ she’d spotted Adrien Agreste running toward the attacking akuma, scooping him up to get him out of harm’s way), Ladybug realizes how much... _taller_ he’d grown in the last year or so since she’d rescued him, and compensates automatically by hefting him up in one arm even higher.

Her face determined (and slightly pink because _she’s literally carrying him like a damsel in distress_ ), she swings at a safe-looking spot a few blocks away from her opponent to be sure the supermodel would be able to wait out the fight unscathed.

With a twist of her hips to direct them in the right way, she only feels her face heat _slightly_ when the motion puts the two of them even closer together in mid-air, makes his arm around her waist tighten down instinctively.

( _Stop. Fangirling. Over Adrien. Agreste._ )

( _She’ll have plenty of time later for that, thank-you very much_.)

And since she’s been in _the game_ for a while now, she knows how to hold the person she’s carrying when she lands so the abrupt stop isn’t jarring.

And literally puts her face right in his shoulder.

Which is _incredible._

Because he’s incredible.

And _oh God_ is she even _talking_ right now?

“S-sorry,” is muffled in his shirt as her feet touch down first.

Yup, _now_ her face is warming up.

“N-not a problem, really! Thank-you for saving me,” the beautiful blond rambles out, “I mean, he looked really dangerous, like _really_ dangerous, so you should be–”

“It’s-it’s okay! Ah, you know, kind of u-used to them by now. The _akumas_ , that is. Pretty used to fighting akumas at this juncture–” she picks up his rambling.

But she takes that second to reel in her string and look _up_ before all coherent thought pretty much leaves her because he’s _smiling_. He’s smiling at her and his eyes are such a beautiful shade of green, full of warmth and fondness she gets to see sometimes as Marinette that it literally has the same effect on Ladybug, leaving her almost speechless.

Combined with the fact that she hasn’t let go of him, still has an arm around his mid-back, keeping him pressed to her, that _he_ hasn’t let go _either_ , and his arms are around her, looking so kind and soft.

It’s really no wonder her heart spills out of her mouth, “I’m glad I picked you up. I’d never forgive myself if I let you get hurt, Adrien.”

Even though it’s soft, carried on the breeze, his eyes go wide, his mouth dropping open a little in shock. He can’t look more stunning unless–

Oh no.

_Oh no_.

The faint pink tints his cheeks, making him utterly delectable.

She’s _done for_.

She just needs to throw up her hands and give _up_ because no one, _no one_ could resist a blushing Adrien Agreste.

“Ladybug,” his arms tighten just slightly, just _enough_ , his voice breathy in that _oh so_ wonderful way.

The faint sounds of chaos and destruction bleed through the moment, and she realizes what she’s _doing_.

“O-oh!” She lets go and steps back, face matching the color of her suit and ( _never washing these arms again. Nope! Never_.) “Gosh, I-I should probably, ah, go now.”

( _Did she really just say ‘Gosh’ in front of him?!_ )

She’s already backpedaling, biting on her lower lip, and fiddling with her yo-yo so she doesn’t look _completely_ flustered.

But Adrien moves forward a step, reaches to catch her forearm, “wait, M’La– ah, Ladybug, please.”

She stills because he’s holding on to her and nothing short of _utter destruction_ could move her in that very moment.

“Doesn’t…” he breathes out, stepping in close again, “doesn’t the damsel in distress give the knight a token of gratitude?”

And his face gets even _pinker_ just at the suggestion.

( _Please let this be what she thinks it is. Please, please, please_.)

“I...I mean, you’re more like a–a Prince than a damsel, really,” she manages to get out, looking at him starry-eyed, “so, you could–you know– give a token to your favored fighter maybe?”

And now his hand slides down from her arm over her side to find purchase on her hip, his eyes mesmerising, drawing her in until she helpless to do more than turn into his body and press them together.

“I would be _honored_ ,” is so soft, his hand grounding her so she doesn’t fly away, “if you would accept my token, beautiful lady.”

As silly as it is, as much as it reminds her of something _Chat_ might do, she still falls right into it, tilting her head back, her eyes falling half-closed behind the mask.

“I will gladly accept, my _Prince_ ,” she laughs a little while her cheeks flare to life again, but is still enough to give her the courage to close her eyes–

–and gasp softly when his mouth is gentle and firm, sweet and already so terribly addicting.

It’s a brand, a mark, the movement of his mouth and grip of his hands, the press of their bodies, and the seamless way they _fit_ one another.

( _She’s dying and defeating HawkMoth is going to be up to Chat Noir because she’s never leaving this spot again, never stepping away from this boy, never giving up this moment_ )

The rapid blasts shatter the stillness a second time, drawing them apart, red-faced and panting, starry-eyed and speechless.

Gently, she reaches up, touches the pads of her fingers on his lips, gasps a little when he makes a moue to kiss them, his eyes half-mast and darker with something that makes her belly warm and tight.

She bites down on her lower lip and almost groans _out loud_ when his eyes follow the movement.

“I...I have to go, my Prince. Another time when dangerous bad guys aren’t causing trouble.” She reluctantly pulls away, pulls back even though her fingers are still caught again the curve of his lower lip for a final, fleeting second.

“Be careful, beautiful lady,” he warns softly, “come back to me unharmed, okay?”

“Is that an order or a wish?” She takes a step back toward the fight waiting on her, the person in trouble and pain that needed her free him of those dangerous little butterflies.

“Consider it whichever will bring you back to me,” he counters softly, standing tall against the Wall of Lover’s at his back, a silhouette that vaguely reminded her of–

( _NOPE. NOT GOING THERE, MARI. IT’S IMPOSSIBLE FOR ADRIEN TO BE CH_ –)

“If you promise me another, that might be reason enough,” she muses aloud, throwing her yo-yo, ready to make the jump.

But she really can’t help but look back over her shoulder to see his face ramp back up to _red_.

It’s _such_ a good look for him.

A minute movement and the line retracts, taking her away from the blushing civilian before he could formulate a reply, but simply watch in awe as she swings away.

His fingers trailed over his lips, eyes fuzzy with love beating through his heart, his body, his all.

He gets shaken out of his revere when a certain cat god smacks him a good one and reminds him of things like _transform_ and _go help her out, you idiot_.

If Chat Noir joins Ladybug a _late_ to the fight, well, she’d only tease him a little.

And squeal unrepentant when his cheeks turn pink under the mask

* * *

**LadyNoir: Desperate**

Her arms are getting tired but she doesn’t stop. Ladybug doesn’t know how long she’s been there on the river banks of the Seine. The water ebbs and flows by and the sound of it would be soothing, comforting if not for her rushed breath and rapid heartbeat. She has to keep it together. _She has to stay calm, damn it._ It must be pass midnight because there’s a definite lack of tourists or anyone Ladybug could call out to for help.

So she counts. _1, 2, 3..._

It’s thirty chest compressions for every two breaths. _It’s thirty chest compressions for every two breaths._ The instruction echoes over and over in the back of her mind from that stupid first aid class she absentmindedly took with Alya. At the time she had mused it would be a good idea since sometimes the police could take forever and you never know what could happen.

It was good planning, she should be proud of her hindsight, but Ladybug, _no Marinette,_ never thought about how _terrified_ she would be.  

_28, 29, 30…_

She pinches the victim’s nose and seals her mouth over his. Out of the corner of her eye, she watches a chest in black rise slightly. The movement is so small. Ladybug tilts his head, her fingers are shaking through the blond hair between the cat ears. She breathes a second time, hoping that this time, this time maybe those lungs will start to fill independently on their own.

But they don’t.

_Stupid Cat. Why–_

She moves to his sternum and counts again. _1, 2, 3…_ At least her hands no longer slide on the leather of the bodysuit, it’s drier than it was when she frantically pulled him to shore. Her feet kicking at the bottom as she lifted his head above the wake. She could be worried about the matted blood on his forehead, he must have hit it when when they hit the cement of the channel. One of his arms then had been so tight around her waist, while the other tucked her skull right against the crook of his shoulder protecting her as they fell. _Crack_. She feels something give under the suit and sobs, _dear god what if that was his ribs? 29, 30..._

“Please Chat, come on–” She softly begs, pausing to listen for any exhale, anything from her partner. At the same time Ladybug hooks her fingers under his jaw and lift it away from his spine, as if pulling out a drawer. That’s supposed to clear the airway, but she doesn’t hear anything.

Nothing.

Cursing, Ladybug angles her face to press their lips together. She tastes a hint of iron and realizes she must have bitten her bottom lip at some point. His mouth feels rough against hers as she tries to breathe out as slow as possible, like his lips are badly chapped. Ladybug strokes his cheek right under the mask and did she hit her head too? Her vision is becoming blurry. Surely it’s just something from the river because her eyes are wet too.

Desperately she presses an ear on his chest. There’s a dull thump and she makes a cry of relief. At least there’s that.

Chat is still not breathing though.

“D-Dammit Chat, breathe! You’re always aiming for kisses so why aren’t you awake for them?”  She demands, continuing the chest compressions, no matter how easy it is to press down with little in the way. Focus. Just focus on the quality not quantity of breaths she tells herself. But a line drills its way into her mind, the fact that after three minutes the brain could– _she never asked him to step in the akuma’s way._ The last action of the villain sending them flying in the air. So what if they were pretty injured already? She had the lasso. Hundred of feet or nothing she can handle herself. _She can protect herself._ “Breathe for me.”

1, 2, 3….

1, 2, 3…

“Please.”

“P-Please, I need you partner.”

28, 29 30…

_“I can’t do this without you!”_

1, 2, 3…

“H-Help. Help! Anyone out there? ANYONE PLEASE!”

His chest goes up. His chest goes down. Up. Down. Each of her breaths effective, but for how long?

“D-Don’t–Please God! Don’t leave me.”

She’s openly crying now. Her strength is almost gone, the muscles in her biceps trembling in the tells of too much, too long. Her earrings beep with static flashing over her eyes and suddenly Tikki is in front of her face. The creature is weary, almost lethargic to the point of passing out but valiantly it flies.

“Marinette!” The kwami waves hurriedly back and forth. “You need to get help!”

“I c-can’t leave him Tikki!” is the watery response.

“Then call. He needs medical attention, you can’t hold out this pace much longer.” Tikki reasons. Now that Marinette is de-transformed, her normal bag lies strapped across her chest.

“Hurry my phone, Tikki!” Marinette pleads and the kwami tugs it quickly and it clumsily falls to clutter against the girl’s knees. At the home screen the bug hops to open and press the emergency number.

The dial tone has never been so loud.

“Yes 112? What is your emergency?”

Marinette doesn’t know where to begin, “M-My friend, he’s not breathing. I’ve tried rescue breathing, but nothing’s working and–”

“Miss? Miss! Where are you? Do you have an address or a few landmarks I can work with?” The dispatcher questions.

“We’re...by the Seine under the Pont des Arts, you know? The one with all the locks?”

“Fine. We’ll send an ambulance on the way immediately, keep rescue breathing the boy. Are you still doing compressions? What are the circumstances of his injury?”

“Y-Yes ma’am.” Marinette takes a rattling breath, it’s hard to count and talk at the same time, “We fell into the river, my partner hit his head somehow and he’s–he’s not waking up.”

“Calm down miss. We’ll be there right way, just keep it up. The paramedics should arrive in five minutes. We have a team stationed near there.”

Panic starts to blind Marinette, what on earth is she going to do when they get here? How is she going to explain Chat Noir, the hero of Paris? How could she keep his identity a secret when they treat him? What is she going to do? ”Hurry. J-Just hurry!”

Her heart pounds in her throat even as she frantically continues to breathe for the two of them. Her exhales becoming a stuttering spurts of air as the night takes its toll, the operator's voice fading from her hearing because she needs to _focus_. Even if what she’s done is anyway successful, (All the stars above let it be successful) How is she going to protect her friend, her partner, her– no 1, 2–

There’s another beep, so familiar she unconsciously brings up a hand ready to turn the earrings off. But it’s not coming from her, there’s a green glow and Marinette gasps.

_She screams._

It’s a ruined, broken sound.

An honest wail hitting her harder than the icy wall she rammed into hours ago. She stops everything, even with Tikki (and another small black creature) yelling in her ears that she needs to keep the first aid going, if she doesn’t _he could die._ But her rhythm is absolutely destroyed and she cradles the boy helplessly rocking back and forth. Somewhere, is it a mile? Is it ten?  A siren blares so faintly it seems like a dream.

Someone wake Marinette up. “PLEASE ANYONE–HELP! _HELP!”_ Please _._

Because she might not lose one of the most important people in her life.

She might lose two.

* * *

**Adrinette: Terrified**

The hospital monitor is the most annoying background noise the visitors in the room have ever endured. But the robotic beeping means he’s alive. _Adrien’s alive._ So Marinette lets the high beeps of the machines roll over her head like rain. She fidgets in the chair beside the bed, her nails making new creases in her pants. Usually, _normally_ when the patient’s life signs have just finally been stabilized, only family members are allowed at this stage of a patient’s recovery. But this is far from a normal situation. Lucky Marinette.

_Slam_.

Marinette jerks and the other figure leaning against the wall sighs in resignation.

The tall woman adjusts the buttons on her suit. “Please excuse me, Ms. Dupain-Cheng. It seems that Mr. Agreste may require...my assistance.” Ms. Natalie then shakes her head at the dull roar beyond the walls and crosses the floor to open the door.

What was muffled outside and angry becomes clear, furious and loud. _“What do you mean my son can’t be released yet?”_

“Sir, we’re doing everything we can, but your son’s injuries must be monitored for at least for several days before we can legally discharge him.”

“And what of in-home care? If it is a question about finances I’ll have you know–”

“–It’s more of the fact that your son has _hairline fractures on his skull_ and his lungs need careful monitoring and testing to see if they have sustained any damage from the amount of water that was pumped out of him. We honestly do not believe it would be wise to _even_ move him to another room.”

Mr Agreste growls under his breath, “This is ridiculous, are you saying I lack the skill to carefully supervise my son? I’m sure he would recover better in his own bed than this sterile zoo. Why not just transfer him immediately?”

“Mr. Agreste, we’ve now been over this _five_ times, you’re not listening!” Even the doctor is starting to hiss in frustration.

But the crack Marinette was listening from clicks closed and whatever is going on in the hallway becomes unnecessary white noise again.

She’s fine though.

She’s fine being alone with him. To see that chest move on its own is it’s own reward, though a part of her is terrified that if she blinks, if she doesn’t keep her eyes open, then that movement will stop and–

_Adrien slack in her arms, cold, wet...his head flopped back with his bangs covering his eyes and still. So very still like a wax doll, like a corpse–_

Marinette roughly shakes her head back and forth. _No, he’s fine._ It’s not like that, the true reality is right in front of her, Adrien Agreste is in the hospital bed there, the ambulance got to them in time–

But what if it didn’t?

What if–

_Her screams the only thing she can hear in the dark and God even is skin is like ice. Clammy, becoming claylike because he’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead._

**Enough.** Stop it. _Stop it._ Her fingers dig into her thighs (it hurts but it grounds her to the here and now) and she squeezes her eyes tight. Attempts to will away the vision of _almost and too late._ Breathing shakily through her nose, Marinette tries not to agitate the cut on her lip but her whole body is tensing and _she can’t stop it._  

“M-Marinette?” It’s a soft wheeze yet the girl jack-knives in her seat. “Is that you?”

She twists towards him to gape, her mouth falling open but nothing coming out. There’s light fluttering through the blinds and it highlights his curious gaze. True, the look is a little unfocused, almost dazed so it’s not too strange when the next words out of his mouth are, “Or are you a dream?” He gives a little smile, his eyes crinkling slightly.

“A-Adrien? What do you mean, you–”

“It’s okay, You’re in it so it must be a good one then.”  

Her heart beats loud and ducks her head hoping her bangs will cover some part of her blush. _It’s like a spotlight of shame,_ whenever he’s too close or just looks at her, she turns into a stuttering mess. Dang it, it’s only Chat, _it’s only Chat..._ She glances up and Adrien’s expression turns into something even more gentle, more patient. “Adrien, a-actually it’s n-n-not a dream–”

He cocks his head to the side, a move Marinette has seen Chat do a thousand times. How did she not see the similarities before? “What do you mean? Of course it’s a dream–”

Before he can finish the question, the door creaks open and slams closed in a fast motion with the phrase, _“I swear I will call my lawyer! And then you’re regret–”_ heard in the brief moment before a new woman rests against the wood frame panting like she’s run a marathon. Sighing, she straightens her scrubs and notices her audience.

“Ah! So you’re awake...Adrien right?” Her eyes flicker to the door and back. Then the nurse reaches out a pink gloved hand behind her and locks the door. “I’m so glad you’re conscious enough that I can brief you! Your father has been worried sick and most of the staff understands that, but wow...he likes giving us a hard time.”

Shamefaced, Adrien says, “I’m so sorry. He gets like that sometimes. Can you tell what happened to me?”

The nurse beams at the no nonsense approach, it’s so nice when patients _let_ her do her job properly. She crosses the linoleum tiles and starts adjusting the monitors, snatching up a clipboard to change a few details on the forms. “Well, according to this little miss, you fell into the river while she was passing by. She fished you out just in the nick of time and called for an ambulance.”

Adrien practically swivels in the bed to face Marinette again, the action making her clutch her purse to her chest. “She did?”

“Yes, she even stayed with you, performing CPR until the paramedics could get there. It seems like your little friend is quite the heroine!”

Huh, they have no idea. The heroine in question gulps as Adrien’s eyes grow even bigger. “She is isn’t she? Marinette, how can I ever thank you?”

“You don’t have to thank me.” In fact...it’s all her fault. He’s the one that saved her and paid the price for it. Oh Adrien, _oh Chat._

“Of course I do, Marinette I–”

“Now,” The nurse snaps the clipboard back to the side of the hospital bed, “Getting down to business, Mr. Adrien just to let you know, in about thirty minutes I’m going to bring some testing equipment to evaluate your lungs. We had to pump them and we are concerned about the damage, do you understand?”

“Well yeah, but–”

“Good, and how are you feeling right now? In fact, wait a sec,” The nurse arms herself with a pen, “I need you to answer a few questions for me. First on a scale of one to ten, how do you rate your pain and discomfort?”

Adrien complies to the best of his ability, it’s odd but with every answer Marinette can feel her breathing evening out.  A five or six. Yes, it’s sort of hard to breathe, but no it’s not super painful or anything. His head is sore though. No, it hurts more in the back than in the front. His name is Adrien Agreste, he’s sixteen years old, his birthday is September 8th, his mother’s name is–

“Well it doesn’t look like you have a concussion.” The nurse interrupts, “Plus it seems like your memory is functioning well so overall even though there’s still a few tests...I believe you’re going to be just fine.”

All the air swooshes out of Marinette’s lungs in relief. Did you hear that? Adrien is really going to be alright, _even the nurse said so._   

_“_ Yay _.”_ Adrien gives a weak cheer.

The nurse smiles widely, “Buuuuuuuuut, let’s not tell your father that okay?” She gives a little wink. “Already he wants to fly you home and I’m sure if he can prove that you can even twitch a single finger, all his lawyers will descend upon us just so he can.”

“That does sound like him.” Adrien mutters sullenly, brows furrowed. But his spirit lightens at a tiny giggle to his right.

“He really cares about you, huh?”

“I wish he’d care a little less.” He jokes, getting Marinette to cover her mouth to stifle another cute snort. “Sometimes I feel like less a son, and more like a princess locked in a tower.”

“Well you do have the hair for it, with golden locks and those shimmering green eyes.”

She thinks he has shimmering green eyes? “Maybe but if anyone’s a princess here, it should be you, Marinette.”

The blush in the girl’s face returns with a vengeance and Adrien beams.

“Annnnnd with that, I think I’ll leave you two alone.” The nurse snickers, “If you have any questions, just let me know when I get back okay?”

“Okay!” Adrien gives her the thumbs up and then they are alone...again.

Princess. The name, no the nickname has her dropping her mirth. That’s right. The weight of guilt slams into her, and she knows, but he doesn’t know she knows and that’s...not fair. She has to tell him.

“Adrien?”

“Yes?”

“Um…” She takes a deep breath and avoids looking at him directly. “I need to tell you something important.”

“What is it?” Adrien tries to wiggle upright to see her better, frowning at the way her body suddenly hunched over like a bug in its shell.

“I-I know. I know that you’re Chat.” Suddenly the confession explodes out of her. Every word tightening her shoulders, bringing them to her ears as she stares at her lap, “I didn’t _mean_ to find out! But by the river, you just de-transformed right in front of me and I-I wouldn’t ever want to disrespect your privacy, _I promise_ but I didn’t know what to do–”

Silence. Marinette squeezes her eyes and waits, waits...

“Huh...I guess you could say the _chat_ is out of the bag?” And she needs every ounce of self-restraint not to lob her purse (Tikki or no Tikki inside) at that stupid smirk. The one that she’s seen so many times as they’ve prowled the city together and that’s the last straw on the ladybug’s back.

_“This isn’t a time for puns, Chat!”_

“It’s always a time for puns, Princess.” Then his stare goes serious, contemplative, “But honestly I don’t think I mind? Like yeah if it was anyone else I think I’d be freaking out but with you...I can’t think of a better person to find out my secret identity, Marinette.”

“M-Me?”

“Sure, after all you’re the sweetest, kindest person I know. You always help people in class, go the extra mile for any of your friends and stand up for what you believe in.” Adrien smiles sheepishly. “I really admire you for the last one. But really if I can trust anyone, it’s you.”  

She sputters wildly. Her hands fapping about and her brain short-circuits. How is she going to respond to that? She’s a facade, she’s not the heroine (neither of them) he thinks she is. How can he say he trusts her so easily when she’s hasn’t really returned the favor?

“I’m...not that great Adrien.”

“Of course you are! Really Marinette, you should believe in yourself a little–”

_“I’m lying to you!”_ Dear all of Paris, how many outbursts is she going to have tonight?

The boy in the bed furrows his brows in confusion, “L-lying to me? What do you mean?” Now it’s his turn to stare at his lap, his hands rub against the coarseness of the sheets.

Marinette opens her mouth...but nothing comes out. Frustrated, she swallows and tries again but all that gets out is a strangled squawk. Finally fingers trembling she clicks open the snap of her purse. Carefully reaching inside to cradle the friend inside with a palm, her tiniest friend rubbing her thumb reassuringly...she pulls out the truth.

“Hello! It’s so very good to finally meet you. Well not meet you, more like talk to you like this!” The voice is high-pitched and Adrien stares at the magical creature, completely stunned.

“And what about me? What am I? Blue cheese?” Chimes another under the covers. A black face scowls playfully at the red bug that flies over to Adrien, landing on his shoulder.

“Well you always did like...strong scents.”

“Hey!”

Stunned, Adrien stammers,“I-is that a–”

“A kwami. A _ladybug_ kwami.” Marinette interrupts quickly, sharply biting her lip. “Meet Tikki. And meet...me. I’m Ladybug.

“My Princess is my lady and _my lady is my Princess_.” Adrien says the words slowly as if in wonder.

“Look I know you must be disappointed.” She covers her face with her hands. “You always talk so much of Ladybug...when I’m just me, I’m just Marinette, clumsy stupid Marinette.”

Suddenly a screeching sound hits her ears furniture scraping over the linoleum. Startled the girl jerks and through her fingers she watches as her chair is firmly dragged closer to the bed. There’s a hand firmly wrapped around the metal leg of the chair and it’s tugged in short increments until Adrien is satisfied. Until Marinette’s knees brush against the sheets and Adrien is in range to finally touch her.

“Now how could I be disappointed, brilliant, funny, _incredible_ Marinette? Why when I must be the luckiest man in the world.” The gaps in her hands don’t hide how bright Adrien’s smiles is. Besides her attempts are useless when he decides his next task is to pull her arms down so he can see if her pink cheeks match her outfit.

“Adrien you’re in the _hospital!_ How is that lucky?”

“Because how often do you fall in love with the same person twice?”

Marinette feels all the blood in her body rush furiously to her face. _“What?!”_

“But then again, _ladybugs mean lucky in love_. So tell me my lady, my princess, how far does my lucky streak go? Am I lucky enough to get you to love me, both of me, back?”

Both kwami snicker quietly, leaving the scene so the two partners can be alone, _together_. Tikki looking back to smile as Marinette steals Adrien’s pillow and tries to smother him. Anything to escape the embarrassment. She smacks him repeatedly until feathers fly, but fails to notice that it puts her in the best position for Adrien to wrap his arms around her waist. She shrieks as Adrien twists her over him so Marinette falls flat beside him on the opposite side of the bed.

“Am I? Am I? _Am I?”_ Childishly He whines repeatedly and muffled.

His captive teases, “Why do I think you already know the answer to that? _Silly Chat.”_ Marinette huffs when her weapon falls off the bed, and wow she didn’t notice how close he was. Here she can notice that there’s a hint of yellow tucked in the green of his eyes. Her throat goes dry and she tries to swallow.

“But I’m your silly Chat right?” He presses their foreheads together happily.

“...Yes. Yes you are.”

And their next kiss? Must be the sweetest of them all.

But it won’t be their last.

Not at all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you like the story, feel free to leave a review!  
> Plus if you liked Blushing (The Ladrien drabble) by Wintersnight, feel free to check out more of her stuff here:   
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/wintersnight/pseuds/wintersnight


End file.
